


A Winter's Tale

by MrProphet



Category: Arthurian Mythology
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 03:41:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10689033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrProphet/pseuds/MrProphet





	A Winter's Tale

It was the rule in the court of Camelot, that at the Christmas feast no man or woman should eat until some tale of knightly deeds should be told, or some great challenge be delivered. On this particular Christmas, it seemed as though there would be no food for anyone, but at last, an hour after midnight, the doors were flung open and a maiden admitted, barefoot and dressed in rags, despite the hard chill of the night.

The maiden fell to her knees before the King's table and begged for his aid, telling him of the terrible beast that had attacked her village. The King at once called for a knight to accompany the girl back to her village, while the Queen took her aside to dress her more suitably for the winter's cold.

So it was that Sir Onager rode out, with the maiden seated behind him in the saddle, to battle the beast. As they rode, he questioned the maiden as to the nature of the beast, but she could tell him little. She had never seen it, only heard its cries; she had been the first victim of the beast, struck unconscious and left to lie there while it slaughtered a household. Since then she had lain abed, feverish, but at last had determined to seek help for her beleaguered neighbours.

They arrived, however, to find the village in jubilant mood. It seemed that the attacks had ceased; for seven nights no-one had been harmed. They thanked Sir Onager for his troubles and invited him to join their celebrations. There was much celebration, but Sir Onager did not drink, and when the village slept, he sat in the square with his sword on his lap and waited.

At midnight, a window shutter opened and a terrible sight emerged into the night; a wiry form that crawled down the wall like a vast spider.

Sir Onager rose to his feet and challenged the beast, which looked up at him in alarm.

“Go back,” he said, “and trouble this place no more.”

The beast lunged and Sir Onager stepped aside.

“Go back,” he said again, “and trouble this village no more.”

The beast howled and swiped at him with a clawed hand which raked and caught in his mail. It sprang on him, knocking him down and clutching for his throat, ragged claws biting into his flesh.

“Go back!” he cried. “Leave this girl, in God's name!”

The beast howled and reared back, then fell to the ground in a huddle. Sir Onager knelt by the crumpled, ragged form of the maiden.

She looked up at him. “Thank you,” she said. “Had you struck it with steel, the beast would have grown stronger. Your gentle restraint has released me.”

Sir Onager helped the girl to her feet and led her into the church to pray in thanks for her salvation.


End file.
